


Division Bonding Activity

by SoullessSubstance



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: DnD Shenanigans, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Team Bonding Activities, happens between cases
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21760990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoullessSubstance/pseuds/SoullessSubstance
Summary: Sliiiight AU where Sherlock is set in 2014 rather than 2010. I didn't have time to go through and learn all the intricacies of 3.5, so I needed 5e to be available (PHB came out in Sept of 2014).
Kudos: 4





	Division Bonding Activity

**Author's Note:**

> Sliiiight AU where Sherlock is set in 2014 rather than 2010. I didn't have time to go through and learn all the intricacies of 3.5, so I needed 5e to be available (PHB came out in Sept of 2014).

“New girlfriend?” Sherlock asks, unmoving from his place behind his microscope.

“What? No- Oh. Um. No. Definitely not,” John answers from across the room, glancing up from the message he’s furiously typing on his mobile. “Why do you ask?”

“That’s the eighth message tone in the past fifteen minutes, who else would you be texting with such frequency at this time of night on a Thursday? And it’s hardly an isolated incident. But you haven’t brought her round, partly because it’s not serious – you never particularly dress up – and partly because you don’t want another repeat of Sarah. I already apologized for that one.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but there is no new girlfriend.”

Sherlock finally looks up, eyes narrow and flickering as he tries to ascertain the _true_ source of the messages. “Then who?”

“It’s a group chat, if you must know.”

“With _who_? It’s unlikely to be work, you seem to enjoy receiving them. Have you joined a rugby team? No, not with your arm…”

John sweeps his coat up off the back of the chair, shrugging it on and turning the collar up. “I’m going out. Want me to bring back takeaway?”

“No,” Sherlock sniffs.

“Okay. Good. Don’t wait up,” John nods, turning on his heels.

“I won’t!” Sherlock calls after him, grumbling under his breath as he turns back to his experiment.

* * *

* * *

“Okay, so as you approach the mouth of the cave, Arnan, you notice what looks to be some kind of tripwire. Do you want to try to disarm it?”

“Not yet. Let me keep looking around – avoiding the tripwire, obviously – to see what else I can find.”

“Okay. You skirt around the perimeter and find some-“ A text tone interrupts the description and Lestrade sighs. “That had better be important. We agreed, no phones at the table. This is our time off, remember?”

John frowns and turns his phone to silent without checking the message. “Sorry. Won’t happen again. What were you saying, I found some what?”

“Right, you were skirting the perimeter and found some tracks in the mud. They’re crossed over each other, so you can’t really tell which ones are fresh and which ones are old, but this seems to be a fairly well-frequented area.”

“Are they human prints? Or, humanoid?” John asks, scribbling down a note on the paper in front of him.

“No, they aren’t. Make a… Make a nature check for me.”

“Can I call Inre over to help me? I’m smart, but nature isn’t exactly my strong suit.”

Donovan looks up from the map she was studying. “You can, but I wouldn’t suggest shouting. We still don’t know what’s out here or if it’s awake. Come back to the tree line.”

“No, I’ll just pull out my wire and cast Message. Easier that way, and I don’t have to reroll my stealth.”

“That you can’t roll under 13 for!”

“We’re level seven, a lot of creatures have higher passives than that!”

“It’s still stupid, John!”

“Don’t forget, if he keeps leveling in Thief he’ll not be able to score under 23, assuming he doesn’t get any magic items that boost his modifiers,” Anderson chimes in gleefully.

“It’s _Rogue_ now, as I keep being reminded,” Lestrade points out, “Anyway, are you messaging or are you going back?”

“Messaging. Donovan just come over here so I can have advantage,” John answers.

“Alright, well actually you _don’t_ message her. You go to cast the spell, but nothing happens.”

“Why didn’t you just _say_ that when I mentioned it?” John exclaims, practically leaping out of his seat, “Fine, then, I’ll just make the check myself.” He picks up one of the dice in front of him, shakes it lazily in his palm for a moment, then tosses it on the table. “Uuh, okay, can I say that I patted myself on the back and gave myself guidance?”

“No, because the spell fails,” Lestrade answers smugly, “What was it, what did you roll?”

“Okay, no, that’s fine. That’s still fine. Unfortunately, it’s not a _one_ , so I can’t reroll, but it’s still not bad- that’s going to be… Okay, not great actually, that’s going to be a nine total?”

Lestrade sucks a sympathetic breath through his teeth. “Ooh, buddy, not going to do it unfortunately. I mean, you’re just trying to figure out what kind of tracks they are so it’s not like anything _bad_ is going to happen, you just don’t get much information out of them. They’re definitely not humanoid, but they’re so mixed together that you can’t tell _what_ made them. There are some that look like maybe weasels or squirrels, some that look more bird-like, lizard-like maybe.”

John’s phone lights up once, twice. The third time, he sighs and pushes his chair back from the table. “I’m going to get another beer, anyone else need anything while I’m up?” he asks, grabbing the offending device from its place beside his papers.

“I’d love some more crisps if you want to get the bag,” Anderson answers absently, looking through his inventory.

“Right, yes, of course. Anything else?”

“If you just want to bring the whole case of beer, I’m sure we’re all going to be needing another one shortly,” Lestrade suggests. John offers a thumbs up over his shoulder as he unlocks his phone to check _what on earth_ Sherlock could want this time.

I thought you and Lestrade usually went for drinks at pubs. SH

Who’s Arnan? SH

If Anderson is going to be there, he may as well contribute. SH

Why not just tell me you were going to a work gathering? SH

John sighs as he pulls the case of beer from the refrigerator. He shoves the phone back in the pocket of his trousers to give himself a hand with which to pick up the bag of crisps Anderson had requested. He’s about to sit back down when there’s a knock at the door. _Come on_ , he thinks wryly, _Can’t I just have a couple hours to myself?_

“I’ll get it,” Lestrade and John say at the same time.

“I’m already up, and I have a feeling I know who it’s going to be,” John explains.

“Not the freak I hope,” Donovan jokes. John grimaces.

“Just. Try to be nice. I’ll get rid of him if we need to,” John shrugs as he crosses to the front door of Lestrade’s flat. Sure enough, standing at the door with his hands clasped behind him and looking pleased as punch is Sherlock. “What are you doing here?”

“Followed you,” Sherlock answers, stepping past John as he continues, “Mind if I come in?”

John keeps his arm on the doorframe, letting his head fall forward. “Would it matter if I said yes?” he grumbles, following Sherlock back to the room in which the group is set up. It’s quite a tableau he walks in to: Lestrade is pushing back from the table looking equal parts hurt and angry, Donovan leaning back in her chair with hands clasped behind her head looking a little smug, and Anderson leaning forward looking frustrated and indignant.

“You can’t just show up like this, Sherlock! There’s no case for you,” Lestrade growls, crossing the room in just a couple of strides to get up in Sherlock’s face.

“I needed to know where John was going,” Sherlock counters, sidestepping him entirely.

“You needed to- No! That’s none of your business, Sherlock!” John says indignantly, “And anyway, now that you know you can go home. We’re in the middle of something.”

“Yes, I can see that. Some kind of division bonding activity it seems. But why are you here and I’m not invited? You’re no more part of the division than I am. Less, maybe. Been around less time. Which means it’s not for the _division_ but for the people, and what do you four have in common? Mm… Relationship issues? I mean, John doesn’t have one, but the rest of you are unhappy at home. Is this your all’s version of _couples therapy_?”

John huffs. “Just go home, Sherlock,” he says quietly, “We just want to play our game.”

“And what, keep being left out? Maybe I want to play too,” Sherlock responds, petulantly turning up his face.

“Oh you wouldn’t like this game, Freak. Takes _imagination_ and _having fun_ ,” Donovan sneers.

“How would you know what I like, _Sally_?” Sherlock seethes, pulling an extra chair off the wall and sitting himself between John and Lestrade. “How do you play?”

“You can’t just-!” Anderson starts.

“No, let him stay,” Lestrade says, suddenly deadly calm. He sits back down in his chair and adjusts his screen and notes to make sure Sherlock can’t see them. “We can let him use that wizard we modeled after him. If he wants to play, let him play. But if we hear _any_ complaints or derogatory comments, I _will_ forcibly remove you from my flat, Sherlock.”

“Oh I have no doubts. What’s this about a wizard?”

“Why don’t you just watch this time, get the hang of the rules and mechanics. Here, you can borrow my handbook,” John suggests, unburying an orange book with a picture of a dragon labeled ‘Player’s Handbook’, “The Elf and Wizard entries are going to be particularly useful for you, and the Spellcasting section.”

Sherlock opens the book and starts reading from the first page while Lestrade rifles through his papers to find the wizard they’d made for him as a joke. “Here we are, Brenadirk Cramplescrunch. I’ll find a way for you to find your way back to your party next session, then,” Lestrade says cheerfully, setting the paper in front of Sherlock, “Do you need to borrow some dice, or do you have some already?”

“Don’t be silly, why would I have dice? You’ve done a few drugs busts already, you know I don’t have any,” Sherlock frowns, poring over the sheet before returning to the book.

“Right. Well. If you still don’t have any before the next meeting, you can borrow some of mine. I’ve got too many, really.” Sherlock hums a vague acknowledgement, but is no longer paying any attention, instead flipping through the pages of the handbook with really quite incredible speed. John wonders if it’ll even take him to the end of the session. He supposes that depends on how early they wrap up. Glancing down once more at his phone to check the time, he can’t imagine it’ll be more than a couple of hours. Donovan and Anderson work in the morning, after all. A race, then.

“So, anyway, where were we? Cave, no magic, tripwire, lots of tracks. Right. I’ll go disarm the tripwire, then head back to fetch Inre and Jonathan. Is that thieves tools or something else?”

“Give me sleight of hand,” Lestrade answers, reshuffling his papers to bring the current set of notes to the front. John rolls and moans in exasperation.

“Again?! Come on, how’s that even possible?” he grumbles, “After bon-“

“They’re weighted,” comes Sherlock’s droning reply. He flips to the next page.

“Sorry?” John asks, furrowing his brow and picking up the die.

“Your dice. They’re weighted. Oh, don’t look at me like that. That one was _easy_. Roll it again. Watch. Listen. _Observe_.” 

John rolls as he was told, and -sure enough- it lands once more on 5 after the slightest hesitation on a face seamline. John rubs his face in frustration.

“Guess we can’t call you The Cursed One anymore,” Donovan jokes, offering John her twenty-sided die. “I’m not using it right now, you can if you need to. You can just bake your set a few minutes and it should even out. Happens sometimes, probably just an odd air bubble.”

“Go ahead and roll again, then. But if it’s lower, you’re keeping it,” Lestrade warns him, gesturing for him to go ahead. John looks up at the ceiling as he rolls this time.

“Okay, after bonuses that one’s going to be… A dirty 20.”

“Right, okay, you successfully disarm the trap. And you’re headed back to the others?”

“I am, yes.”

“Are you going stealthily?”

“Do… I see or hear anything around?”

“Perception check.”

“18. No, sorry, 19. Forgot to change the proficiency modifier on that one.”

“You hear something faint. Might be wind, might be slow breathing. Hard to say.”

“Then yes.”

“Roll for it. At disadvantage.”

“What?! Why at disadvantage?” John asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Because I’m the dungeon master and I said so, now roll,” Lestrade answers, grinning. John rolls Donovan’s die twice, then a third time.

“Well, it _would_ have been a 1, but I’m incredibly lucky you see. So instead, after bonuses, that’s going to be a 23,” John says, handing the die back.

“You feel like your light-footed nature is serving you well. You manage to dodge all the little twigs and stick to the shadows. Pass me a beer?”

**Author's Note:**

> Tags, characters, and relationships will be updated as the fic progresses. I'm not sure what all ships will and won't be included, but I have a handful of late-game plans for it. If I ever get around to it. We'll see. I'll get official character sheets made up so I can link them in the next chapter.


End file.
